by Debra Kayn
Since his oldest brother had stepped into the position of President of Brikken after Chief stepped down, members no longer followed the shipment of chopped motorcycles to Northern California. Instead, they rode as a club ahead of the truck and trailer full of stolen goods. Taking a six-hour lead put all eyes on them and off the lone semi-truck.
He tucked his phone into his back pocket. With every state patrol officer following the riders, it left a skeleton crew of law enforcement officials to notice another truck on I-5 going south.
A hundred members would stay behind to protect the club, the families, and be available if needed.
Olin would lead twenty members behind the shipment in case the truck driver was stopped, taking the risk of riding up on a sting if the Feds decided to pull the shipment over. To protect his president and brother, he and Thorn always rode end-man. If someone was going to go to prison, it wasn't going to be Jett—who'd already served two sentences in the penitentiary.
Most men would carry the stress of such a job on their shoulders, but Olin let it go. He had to come back. Ashley was here.
"Clouds are rolling in." Thorn nudged him with his elbow. "Did you pack your face cover?"
He nodded. "The wind is going north. We should be fine."
A small running figure burst out between the clubhouse and the garage. He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled, calling his youngest sister.
Stassi changed direction and sped up, coming to a skidding stop in front of him. She ran on pure adrenaline as only an eleven-year-old girl could do.
He held out his hand. "Did you get them?"
His sister glanced behind her while untucking her shirt and removing a sandwich bag stuffed with cookies. "Quick, take them before Chief catches me."
Thorn chuckled beside him. Olin turned and put the peanut butter cookies in his duffle. Johanna always made sure Chief had cookies in the jar. Everyone knew the peanut butter ones were not to be taken.
He reached into his pocket and took out a five-dollar bill. "Here you go, squirt."
"Thanks." Stassi looked at Thorn. "When are you coming back?"
"In about a week." Thorn pulled Stassi's braid hanging over her shoulder. "Where're my cookies?"
"You got money?" asked Stassi, raising her brows.
"You've been hanging around Sydney, haven't you?" Olin's laughter was interrupted by a familiar car pulling onto Brikken property. "What the hell is she doing here?"
Ashley parked in the field and jumped out of her car. Stassi noticed the new arrival in the mix of members ready to ride off and waved her hand over her head.
"Aunt Ashley is coming over to visit with momma. I ran over to walk across the creek with her." Stassi jetted forward.
Olin grabbed her shoulder. "Hold your horses. Let her come to you."
He wanted to believe Ashley walked toward him as if she'd come to see him off, knowing he'd be gone for at least a week. She'd ignored his calls over the last several days and only replied to one text saying she was okay.
He gritted his teeth, watching her breasts bounce as she hurried over the uneven ground. Her favorite word lately was okay.
If he heard she was okay one more time when there was obviously something wrong, he'd make sure she wasn't. Damn woman, kept him wound tighter than a coiled spring.
Stassi looked up at him. "Are you going to be mean to Aunt Ashley?"
"I'm not mean to her," he muttered.
"You are," said Stassi.
He leaned down, kissed the top of Stassi's head, and said, "I'll give you another five if you wait over by the corner of the clubhouse and let me talk to Ashley by myself."
Stassi grinned, threw her arms around his neck, and whispered, "Ride safe, brother."
He chuckled, enjoying his sister. She had a personality that bounced all over the damn place but deep down, she was sensitive to others despite her mouth and attitude. But, piss her off and even their deceased grandfather, Rollo, who'd built Brikken from the ground up, smiled from the grave.
"See you when I get back." He straightened at the same time Ashley stopped in front of him.
Stassi ran off ten dollars richer for her day's work, and Ashley's gaze followed her. He took the time to take in the new shirt he hadn't seen her wear and the way her jeans curved her hips. An hour could go by without seeing Ashley, and she seemed new and mysterious to him.
Ashley stepped away to follow Stassi. His adrenaline spiked.
"Hey," he said, wanting to keep her with him.
She turned. "What?"
His skinned prickled. Her one-word reply filled with attitude angered him. All she had to do was look around, and she'd figure out that he was leaving for a week.
"Missed you." He moved forward and cupped her face, tilting her head.
Without giving her a chance to make him angrier, he captured her lips. The warmth of her mouth settled his frustration dealing with her not seeing things his way. Taking the kiss deeper, he stroked her tongue until her stiff body grew limber against him and her hand slithered around his hip to his lower back.
His cock pulsed to life after going without sex for almost two weeks. Two long fucking weeks.
He shifted his body forward, planting his boot on the ground between her feet, forcing her backward toward the clubhouse. Each step, his thigh brushed the apex of her legs, and she gave a moan which he swallowed. He planned to take her inside and keep what was his out of the view of the others.
The moment he removed his hand to reach behind her and open the clubhouse door, he lost his grip on Ashley. She scooted to the side, rubbing her mouth and shaking her head. Used to her stubbornness, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her through the doorway.
Words spilled from her mouth he couldn't wrap his head around. Something about no time. Not now. Asshole.
He kissed her hard, lifting her off her feet, and carried her across the room, up the stairs, and into the first room, knowing that Cash would be out with the others and they'd have the place to themselves.
He let her slide down his body. His cock ached pleasantly. There was no other comfort that compared to her softness.
They'd both gone their separate ways more times than he could count over the years. The longest year of his life was when Ashley broke up with him for good, and he'd been with other women knowing she was with other men. He'd missed her like hell and caused trouble wherever he went.
But, that was at least fifteen years ago. It'd only been her since, and even during the rough times Ashley pushed him away from dedicating his life to her, they'd stayed together.
"They're going to ride out any minute." He smoothed his hands over her cheeks, pushing her hair off her face. "I want you before I go, Ash."
"Dammit," she whispered. "You do this to me every time."
"What are you going to do if I don't come back?" He framed her face.
"Don't say that." Her brow wrinkled, and she smacked his stomach before her fingers went to his belt buckle and tugged it loose. "I hate you."
"Let it go," he whispered.
She cupped his cock through his jeans. "Just for the next five minutes."
He chuckled, backing her to the bed and picked her up, falling with her until they both bounced on the mattress. She scrambled onto her knees, unfastening her jeans. He rolled to his back and pushed his jeans past his hips.
Ashley plopped back on her ass and kicked the legs of her jeans over her feet. He tugged her toward him and patted her leg for her to climb on top of him. Any other time, he'd want her fully naked.
But, he had to leave any minute, and he wanted inside her before he left.
He stroked himself to full hardness as she kneeled above him, her pussy in sight. "Take it, Ash. Take it all."
She planted her hands on his chest. He aligned his cock between her legs. She slammed down on him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. He groaned at the pleasure.
"Damn, so good," he bellowed, grabbing her hips and thrusting his pelvis off the bed.
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br /> Ashley never let him get comfortably buried deep inside her body. She pushed him down and raised her ass up, then down, and up, and ground against him.
He could see it in her eyes. The way she opened her mouth and set her jaw. The nails digging into his chest. She moved, riding him hard, not because she felt the pressure of him leaving.
No, his girl took it because she fucking loved him. She imprinted herself on him, spoiling him for anyone else, and he was okay with that.
He pressed the back of his head into the pillow and pinned his gaze on Ashley. Hair flung back, neck arched, she was every one of his dreams.
He'd kissed her millions of times and each time was the first. He'd loved her body for twenty-three years, and he only wanted her more. He knew everything about her and yet, she remained a mystery keeping him interested.
One look. One touch. One soft laugh from her and his dick hardened, wanting her.
His balls throbbed. He dug the heels of his boots into the bed as his chest constricted and his breath ripped from his lungs.
Ashley's urgent moans set to the tempo of her driving herself on him filled the room. A damn piston ring on his rod. Sealing. Heating. The combustion chamber hot, tight. His toes curled underneath the steel toe of his boots.
A well-oiled crankcase, she came hard. He held on, blown over the edge as if riding a fine-tuned Harley.
A shudder rocked him from the base of his spine, clear up to his neck. He chuckled lazily and pulled Ashley to his chest. Kissing her warm forehead, he inhaled deeply and then smacked her ass.
"Need to go, Ash." He set her off him. "The room will be empty. Go ahead and use the bathroom and rest if you want."
She sat up in bed and grabbed her jeans. He tucked himself behind the zipper of his denims and fastened his belt. All the while he got ready, he watched her.
She glared.
He gloated.
The thunder of motorcycles outside permeated the room. He stepped over to the bed and kissed her.
"Stay out of trouble." He kissed her quickly again. "Answer my fucking texts while I'm gone."
Her stubborn chin lifted higher, but she refused to talk with him. Thankful for the beard hiding his grin, he walked across the room.
As he grabbed the door handle, Ashley said, "Ride safe."
"Always do, Ash, cause I'm coming home to you." He strode out of the room and hurried down the stairs.
The first crew of riders pulled out of the gate. Olin jogged over to his motorcycle, spotting Thorn and Chief talking. Deep down, he knew his father had a hard time staying back and not riding along, leading the men.
He stopped at his Harley and put on his helmet, his sunglasses, and slipped on his riding gloves. "Fifteen minutes?"
"Jett wants us to go slow. By the time we hit I-205, he wants us at least an hour behind the semi-truck and trailer. D-Con is going to initiate the call when they ride into Oregon." Thorn sat his motorcycle. "He put you in charge of the end crew."
"Should've been here to take the instructions," said Chief, reminding him of his mistake.
"Had things I needed to do." He lifted his gaze to the clubhouse.
Ashley walked outside, looked left and right, and then zeroed in on him. He whistled, and she flipped her middle finger at him before stomping in the opposite direction toward Chief and Johanna's house on the other side of the creek.
He chuckled and patted his vest pocket, making sure he had his phone. First stop, he'd call Ashley.
Chief stepped into his view. "I hope like hell you've got your head screwed on right."
"You've been telling me that since I was twenty-one years old." He raised his brows. "I haven't died yet, have I?"
"There are worse things than dying, son," said Chief.
He couldn't think of one thing. Having almost lost his life by an enemy's knife and bearing the scar on his chest, everything else paled.
Chief's mouth tightened over Olin's lack of worry, and he stepped back. Olin started his Harley, saluted his dad, and rode toward the gate, knowing Thorn would follow. Unlike his brothers, he took unnecessary chances when a situation called for someone to put their patch on the line. A choice Chief wasn't happy with.
But, someone needed to watch over the family, keep them alive, and if he had to sacrifice himself, he would, believing he'd survive.
Chapter Five
Ashley knocked on Chief and Johanna's front door and let herself in. "Hello?"
"In the living room," answered Johanna.
She followed the familiar path through the kitchen and found Johanna folding clothes on the couch. Looking around for the girls and not finding them close by, she said, "I'm an idiot."
"Uh-oh. What happened?" Johanna held up a towel and folded it in half.
"Olin." Ashley picked up a washcloth and added it to the pile.
"What did he do this time?"
"Same thing. I'm the weakest woman in the world." She picked up a stack of towels. "Where do these go? Master bath or hallway bathroom?"
"Hallway," said Johanna.
Full of excess energy, Ashley walked through the house and into the bathroom. She put the towels in the cabinet and then returned to the living room. "Where are the girls?"
"Jackie's visiting a friend and studying for a biology test on Monday and Chief called to say Stassi was hanging out in the kitchen at the clubhouse. Apparently, Deana asked her to help make dinner for the remaining guys who stayed behind from the ride. It's only us here." Johanna folded a dish towel.
Knowing the house was free of little ears, she said, "I was so good all week. I ignored Olin every time he tried to contact me. I made sure not to come see you, in case I ran into him. Twice, I went out with Elissa and Willa after work because I knew, deep down in my soul, that if I went straight home, he'd walk into the house and everything I swore I'd never do again...well, I'd do them."
Johanna put the stacks of clothes back in the basket. "Can I say something without you getting upset?"
"Yes." She shook her head. "No. I’m going to get mad because I'm in a bitchy mood. I just had sex with him. Again."
Her voice ended on a high note. She groaned and walked over to the overstuffed chair by the rock fireplace and sat. "Okay, fine. Tell me how ridiculous I am for letting him get to me."
"Would it be so hard to commit to him? You've loved him since you were sixteen years old." Johanna paused. "If keeping him out of your life for fear that he will end up breaking your heart..." Her friend held up her hand when Ashley opened her mouth. "Hear me out. I understand Olin's lifestyle is not your ideal because of all the women around, and the parties, and you want more security than he's given you in the past. But, you're hurting now, how much more pain would you have to deal with if you gave being with him an honest chance?"
It would kill her. She exhaled loudly. Of course, she wouldn't die from a broken heart. It'd be worse.
She'd suffer the remaining forty or fifty more years of her life without Olin. It would be living without him, knowing he consciously had left her. Emotionally. Physically.
Like her father had left her and her sister, and their mother.
She'd lived through the heartbreak before and knew from experience what would transpire because it'd happened before. The shock of being seven years old and hearing that her father, who was supposed to be her model of perfection, the father she'd base all her relationships after, no longer wanted to be in her life, she'd become angry until all feelings toward her dad died.
Not feeling for someone she once loved was the worst thing imaginable. Numbness toward her father became normal.
A normal she hated and tried not to think about.
With her father, all she'd wanted was reassurance that she still mattered. That she came first. That there was room in her father's life for her, no matter how old she got. When she was a child, he'd come by the house weekly. Then, she'd spent two weekends a month with him at his new home.
Eventually, the visits became fewer.
The only reason she could come up with for her dad's lack of motivation to be in her life was that he loved his new wife and her children more. Her throat tightened, and she swallowed. Add on the fact, her father now cheated on his new wife with Ashley's mother and it was no wonder why she had a hard time with trusting men.
Olin promised her a fun time, sex, a shared living arrangement, but he never mentioned marriage. He never mentioned forever. He never put her first. It was always Brikken.
And, as much as she loved him and needed him in her life, she couldn't take that final step to commit to him in anything that resembled a marriage.
"It's just easier to fight with him than it is to give him everything inside of me and have him decide he no longer wants to be with me," she whispered. "At least this way, he keeps coming back to me. Over the years, I think he gets off on fighting. Or, maybe I do. I can't even tell anymore. The sex is hotter. The passion is..." She moistened her lips. "We have everything with this back and forth relationship we've created. It doesn't make sense, but it works for us. Right now, I'll take that above everything else."
"Even marriage? Children?"
She scoffed. "I’m thirty-nine. I'm sure the baby train left long ago. I've never had regular periods." She pushed that idea out of her head because she tried not to dwell on what she couldn't have. "We don't even use protection anymore because last summer, I told him if I could give him a baby, I'd be his woman. It hasn't happened."
"Then why did you come in here pissed off at Olin?" Johanna stood and picked up the basket.
Ashley followed her into the kitchen. "Because he tried to use the risks of the ride to freak me out about losing him to make me have sex with him."
Johanna hummed that she was listening and put the kitchen towels away. "There are risks when they leave for a ride."
"I know." She exhaled harshly. "I'm over this. I just had to get it off—"
A knock interrupted her, followed by a familiar voice. "Anyone here?" said Lindsay.